


Chronicled Memories

by Aerypear



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 5.0 spoilers, Call it a healthy Au of AAAAA, Childhood Memories, Main story quest compliant, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Recovered Memories, There are differences, Will add tags as fic get's longer, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28524972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerypear/pseuds/Aerypear
Summary: A'veri wants to learn the answer to his dreams' meaning but also feels delving too deep into questioning will face him with a bucket full of Self Identity issues and he knows that's the last thing the Scions want him having. Doesn't help that he has his doubts on the path he's walking despite his promise to pick a better path to Ardbert.
Kudos: 3





	Chronicled Memories

Light filtered through rain droplets as they pelted the verdant earth, making the unease felt and known despite the pressure releasing itself from the world. Pain wracked the body with every inhalation as whispers prayed to the 12 gods that time would speed up. Praying to the god, Althyk, to stop making the minutes stagger and hardly move. Though, Althyk would not hear these pleas. The memory of the anguish etched itself as deep scars in the mind of the young Miqo’te with matted and greasy red hair. Dirty from the days from having lived in the wild. His eyes drew to a close as the rain continued falling onto his skin.

Eyes opened, and with it the pain of the elements gone. Replaced by the warmth of covers as he shifted underneath them to come to a sitting position while waiting for bleary eyes to focus on the room. He rubbed sleep from his eyes as they peered into the vast room. The drapery, pulled back from the open window, allowed for the warm breeze of summer to wash in. The wind carried in the scent of flowers from the nearby forest that was covered from treetop to grass in a distinct soft purple. The room was dimly lit, with only a small lamp by the door to cast any meaningful light. Though, he didn’t require much light to see with slitted pupils, which focused on the various kinds of furniture in the room. The Pendants fashioned each Inn room with light blond woods mixed with metal elements. The texture of the grain being an emphasized statement with the medium gray toned metal accents, drawing the color out of the wood which added a handsome vibrancy. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling the locks up between his fingers as his thoughts whirled. Dimly he registered the feeling of the tousled mess as smooth and soft, too used to his hair being anything but.

It’s been awhile since he had a dream about his childhood. He had never been fond of them, but he supposed even the mind needed breaks from elaborate story telling. He suppressed a yawn, fangs peaking out in the motion as he took another look out out the window. The stars still glittered in the night sky, which caused him to sigh at himself. The pressing option was whether to roll over and drift back to sleep, or to try to remain awake, though he wasn’t particularly in the mood to be entertained by the sour moments of his life.

Feet kicked over the side of the bed, adorned with sheets and blankets, and he climbed out. Stretching, A'veri walked over to the dresser and grabbed a shirt. He paused to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Only in dreams of himself did he see himself clearly. A third person perspective, like a spectator hovering and watching. However, in the other dreams, the dreams he preferred, it was always as if he experienced it in the moment. Looking through the eyes of someone else. He was pretty certain that term was first-person. His thoughts paused long enough for sunset hues to glance up to his reflection which showed how much older he was now compared to the version of himself in the dream. No longer that scared and alone 10 year old, but a strong and accomplished 25 year old. He preferred using “accomplished” in air quotes. “Used” was more appropriate most days. His face showcased annoyance briefly at the soured thought process as he threw a simple red t-shirt over his head, not feeling quite up to putting on his proper archery gear.

He glanced at his gear for only a moment before he turned away from it, wanting to stay muddled in his current thoughts. Not that anyone could blame him. Archery was just a foundation under all of his skills. Above that though were his prose and songs. Where the true magic of his abilities were supposed to shine through. Shine through they haven’t done since he was summoned on the First. He had felt less and less in the mood to sing and tell stories about his dreams, his adventures, and his journey across the realm. The rush and hustle of the past few days was obviously the culprit. Something he knew didn’t affect him in the past but was currently getting to be a bit much. A shadow of a smirk as he remembered Ardberts use of the phrase. He still loved to perform, but his thoughts gnawed and clawed at suppositions and for want of answers. He had never questioned the dreams intently when he finally learned to accept them as a part of who he is, but recently he couldn’t help but feel they meant something more.

Like he was woefully ignoring a blatant and obvious answer.

Not that he could help it. Once they were seen as joyous prophecies of the future by his family only to be considered a horrific future outcome, spelling destruction and misery. Which, in turn, led to his mistreatment as a child, a fact that had him running away to escape from it all. Though, what the dreams were truly about, he had never figured out. In his time with Matoya and Y’shtola, he had decided to look to the person he became in the dreams as an inspiration. To follow in their footsteps as a hero of the realm, to help everyone who was suffering and quell all woes that occured. 

“A’veri,”

Which led his impressive feats to being discovered by the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and soon after being dubbed the Warrior of Light. A title he still took issue with, not liking the implication of it. The Mother Crystal’s, Hydaelyn’s, name had always bothered him slightly. Revered by everyone as she was, her name was only mentioned in the dreams as something to be concerned about. That her birth would spell ruin for the star. He tried to separate dreams from reality, but the coincidences of names in real life to names in his dreams was growing every month.

“A’veri…?”

Before, he could easily write it off if he heard the name first in his waking moments, but when that reversed he felt deeper meaning. Though, willfully ignoring the deeper meaning was a bid to keep peace and stay focused on the bigger issues. He sighed to himself, wondering why things couldn’t just be outright said with clear and concise meanings?

“A’VERI!”

He snapped to, jumping in place, suddenly realizing he was in the study at the Cabinet of Curiosity. He looked around, then turned his gaze to the robed figure with a crystal arm. He hadn’t realized he had been on auto-pilot getting dressed before he wandered here, so he gave the man a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I um…” A’veri started but, unable to think of a reason, didn’t complete his sentence.

“Are you unwell? You seemed to be thinking deeply on something. Did you need to research something to relieve your mind so you could rest, or--?” He questioned.

“I’m fine!” He replied quickly, shaking his head, “Sorry for worrying you, Exarch. I’m not quite sure why I wandered here.” A’veri laughed at himself afterwards. 

The Exarch brought his hand to his chin in thought. “Hmm… Well regardless. Is there anything on your mind that I can help you with? You need only to all say the word. I am here at your disposal.” He offered a kind smile, cowl still hiding most of the Exarch’s features. Annoyingly so, but A’veri knew to not break boundaries like these.

“Really, it’s nothing.” He smiled in return while nervously rubbing his arm, “Just a dream that I didn’t quite enjoy so I needed to walk it off.”

The smile on the other’s face faltered, concern evident in his tone as he lowered his hand, “A nightmare then? Pardon me for prying, but on what? I--,” he inhaled with uncertainty, “--am aware of the many feats in your life. I can imagine some moments that weren’t in good favor could cause fears or nightmares. Trauma even, if you’ll excuse my phraseology.”

A’veri’s feline ears perked slightly and then flattened at the mention of it being trauma. His smile fell completely as he looked away, finding the bookshelves more interesting. “I forgot you mentioned having read on my many exploits in the Crystal Tower.” 

“I apologize-”  
  
“No, no. It’s fine, I just forget things sometimes. It’s not your fault. If anything, I should pay better attention to what’s being said to me instead of being constantly lost in my thoughts.” He rubbed the back of his head.  
  
“Well, shall we claim a desk then?” He gestured to an empty table nearby. The soft light on the table, dimly illuminated the spines and spirals of the books on the wall, with chairs tucked nicely under the table. “You can speak with me of your dream and, while I know I’m not any of the Scions, I can hopefully alleviate it off your chest some?” This was offered with another kind smile.  
  
A’veri wondered why it was so natural for the Exarch to be friendly and familiar with him, where he would bumble and stumble on trying to remain professional with the other. Another enigma in his growing list of things to try and figure out. 

He mulled on it for only a second before nodding, following the Exarch to the tables and taking a seat. Legs crossing at the ankles below it, arms rested on the wooden surface. It was smooth under his touch despite evidence of the furniture being very simply made.

Once suitably comfortable in his new spot, his eyes met up with the Exarch’s form, the Crystal Exarch’s eyes still expertly hidden, which made being familiar with the man in return that much harder.

“The nightmare in question has nothing to do with my life as the “so-called” Warrior of Light” A’veri started, “So it won’t align with anything chronicled about me.” He could tell that he had the other’s complete attention, as the Exarch sat up a little straighter. “It was of my time as a child before I was found by Master Matoya and after I had run away.”

He still vividly remembered it. The last straw. The final time A’veri could weather the abuse and insults. Where was he to go? He had no idea. It wasn’t like Garlemald was easy to go to and from. The Burn made traveling impossibly hard which is why Garlemald used their ships to get everywhere. It was empty and void of any hospitable life. Ilms to fulms, to yalms to mlams of the place was covered in white powdery sand that would burn at the skin from prolonged exposure, and any life that did exist there fought over what little aether did reside or had adapted to not require aether at all. They became the true stuff of nightmares. After all, from what little he knew, the Burn was bled dry of its Aether from repeated summonings of Primals which, in turn, caused Garlemald’s staunch stance against Primals and Religion. However, he was done. His tiny form could no longer continue fighting against the pain, and he was tired of crying himself to sleep and praying to never leave those dreams of adventure and freedom. Praying that instead the wounds would be too severe and he would die.

Of course, he would always wake up without his prayer being answered. Why would the god of death, Nald’thal, humor such a silly wish from a child who ought to grow up big and strong? So he started walking. Walking was easy and relieving at first. Tears of anguish were nowhere to be found but instead tears of relief flooded him. Finally letting go of the toxic life he was forced to endure for 10 solid years, it felt liberating to leave it behind. But hours of happiness would become days of torture as walking would not see the end of the Burn come.

The way the sand truly bit at his skin, and left a bitter taste in his mouth. One that would get worse and feel like he bit into a lemon without peeling it’s skin. Azeyma’s, the sun warden’s, light beating down on him as if to rub salt on his wounds and cook him alive. The soles of his feet would crack and blister and the sand introduced to the wounds would bleed profusely making every step like walking on knives. 

Honestly, A’veri hadn’t thought very far into his plans to run away from home. Which way from the Burn led to abundant land? To civilizations? Being a Tia, his family squashed and forced his existence into secrecy, disallowing the Garleans to whisk him away to have any proper and meaningful education. Had he kept silent on the dreams, said nothing about the day the meteors pelted the earth as screams deafened the senses, he would have likely grown up and lived a far different life. However, he had grown far too used to being showered in curiosity and praises for simple dreams about prosperous days, so of course he recounted the dream where it felt like the world was ending. 

He finally collapsed one day in the Burn, once again praying that Nald’thal would simply end his meaningless existence filled with dreams that would do nothing but make him wish he could trade places with the person he is in his dreams, never having a name for them at the time. Instead, when he woke, he found himself in lush fields and a peculiar buzzing in the air. Buildings scattered the lower valley near the water as a path would lead up and up until a grand city sat on the horizon. A city that would achingly feel like the one from his dreams. Yet it was different. The people that bustled around not even knowing he was there as they went about their day, dressed head to foot in white coats and robes. 

He would attempt to stir, to move even an ilm, lift his body that felt like the weight of 5 tonze, but his trek through the Burn had taken its toll. Pain wracked his body, making it scream in protest to every movement when rain would finally begin to wash away the white sand that felt embedded on him from the Burn. It felt nice before the sting came in, having become numb from the chemical burning the sand had caused during his journey and subsequent sleeping in the stuff. 

Unable to move, unable to celebrate his somehow miraculous discovery of a land that wasn’t white dust, he felt like this was a horrible joke. Like the gods were laughing at him. That Azeyma was so ashamed of him that not even she would shine down at this moment, opting to rain. It was a terrible moment of shame for A’veri. He truly felt like that would be his last moment on Hydaelyn, the world that so happens to be named after the Mother Crystal. Like the gods had to punish him one last time for existing and being dumb enough to speak of tragedies that the dreams supposedly predicted.

Of course his life didn’t end that day, and perhaps he had also learned he was a bit of a drama queen when it came to suffering a little while traveling. Mostly because Matoya treated him like he was being the biggest drama queen in the world, where Y’shtola had always countered saying he was in a state close to death when he was found by them. None of them could ever piece together how he managed to teleport from the Burn to Sharlayan, as both places were in near perfect opposite sides of the world, but he had. It was something he was grateful for as his life had taken a major upswing since.

Finishing the recanting of this particular moment in his life, he allowed a gentle silence to take over the atmosphere, waiting for the Exarch to gather his thoughts as the light from the lamp would dance and flicker.

“I…” The Crystal Exarch started, but paused part way, still attempting to form some semblance of a reply. A’veri didn’t require validation of the event, and surely it would be improper to congratulate him for surviving. “I had no idea.” Hands clasped in front him, crystalized fingers interlocking with his normal fair-skinned fingers. “When the chronicles mention you, they make very little mention of your upbringing, or even where you were from. At most I had surmised that you were a child of Sharlayan, but I could not place your clan ever having visited Sharlayan for this to be the case.” He frowned at himself.

A’veri gave a hum in thought, leaning back in his chair. “Well, I mean it’s not like many people do ask. Plus I was only 10 when I was formally introduced to the city. I didn’t live within the city for very long though. I’m terribly sensitive to aether, so I was easily overwhelmed by the magic. Garlemald, as you can imagine, is practically devoid of magic casting. Most of the citizens are aetherically sterile. Matoya supposed that with time I would get used to it so decided to move into a cave on the fringes of the Hinterlands. Now if that was for my sake or not, I couldn’t tell you. Shtola claimed it was, but evidence shows that Matoya had been planning to do so for a long time.” He gave a small shrug. “Worked to my benefit either way, and to hers when the Great Exodus occurred. She of course opted to not go with the rest of Sharlayan.”

The Exarch smiled, “It certainly explains why you and Y’shtola do not refer to one another with the clan indicator as the books suggested those of different clans do.”

A’veri’s ears perked and he blushed slightly with a small nervous laugh. “I-I mean, well… Just that we grew up together and I consider her a sister so…”

He received a laugh for his bashfulness. “Pray, forgive me for implying anything other than siblingship. It’s good that despite your troubles with your own family, you found a new one to call your own. One that has grown extensive with many of your feats. But, indulge me if you will, do you still have those dreams of what was supposed as the future?”

A’veri leaned forward, adjusting his spot in the seat, clearly not used to sitting in place for long periods. “Yes, actually. They're normal for me. It’s pretty rare when I dream of something other than that, much less of my own past. Why?”

“Do you believe them to be of the future?”

A frown on the redhead’s features formed. “No. I think it was quite silly of my clan to take them as the future, and not dreams from a child who could be making things up for the hell of it.”

A nod from the Exarch, his thoughts confirmed. “I figured, based on the way you spoke. However, you still have them, so surely they’re not random stories that the mind has decided to tell. Typical dreams are the subconscious and, seeing as your profession aligns with your dreams, wouldn’t the subconscious pick something else?”

“Quite frankly, I don’t know.” he sighed, sliding down in his chair some., “The dreams were my inspiration to become an adventurer. To wander the world and learn of its secrets and its stories. To be there when people needed me to be there, to help them grow and flourish, and to protect them. I wasn’t book smart, and I wasn’t magically adept when I was younger due to my aetheric sensitivity, but I was good at hunting so I went with that.”

“Are the lands familiar within the dreams?” The Exarch tilted his head, black cowl moving slightly but never slipping. Never revealing just whose features it hid. 

“Kinda! It’s hard to explain.” A’veri spoke, he righted his posture, sitting back up. “They’re like… I have no mental equivalent for Lakeland, but Kholusia and Amh Areang when I went to visit the twins. Kholusia looks and feels like La Noscea. Heck, even Eulmore kinda has the same feeling as Limsa Lominsa. Then there’s Amh Areang that is basically Thanalan in a nutshell. If the ruins were fully built and prospering, I think they would have resembled Ul’dah quite a bit. Going to those places, it was foriegn and different, but at the same time like I had walked through that land a thousand times before. The lands in the dreams are like that exactly,.” he explained.

The other seemed shocked, or at least from what A’veri could see of the other’s expression. “I see… Well, that certainly brings many things to question. After all, the First is but a shard of the Source. It is of no surprise that these places should bear familiarity and resemblance.” he paused, thinking on his next words carefully. “It could be, in all likelihood, you’re seeing the life of a different shard. Perhaps from one of your shards on one of the 13? Though, time is fickle when it comes to the shards. Hours on the source tends to translate to years on the first. If it is of the past or future, or coinciding present, we would probably never know.”

A’veri shrugged, attempting to stifle a yawn but failing in doing so. “I’m not too fussed about it.” he lied. “More importantly, we have the Oracle’s rescue to focus on more rather than dreams of things that may or may not be of someone’s existence.” 

“Ah, yes. Minfilia’s.” The Exarch nodded in agreement. “As I’ve mentioned before, leave all plans to the Crystarium. After your heroic triumph against the Lightwarden of Lakeland, you have inspired many to rise up against Eulmore. I wouldn’t recommend squandering it.” He reiterated his warning from the previous day.

“I wouldn't _dream_ of it.” A’veri made the pun, “Speaking of which…” his voice trailed off.

“Hm? Is there something amiss?”

“Well, I guess that’s the right word. Are you sure, like positively sure, I’m releasing the light and dissipating it?” A’veri questioned, sunset hues trained on the man before him.

“With utmost certainty, why?” The Exarch replied with a seemingly confident voice, tinged with a lilt of something else. Something A’veri couldn’t place.

“I would have thought the feeling of overwhelming primordial light would have gone away with the Night Sky returning to Lakeland. Instead it feels like the Light that hung in the sky shifted a few malms closer to the world, like a personal raincloud.” he mused.

The Exarch smiled lightly, an answer smoothly provided without missing a beat. “Light is very much so apart and hanging in the rest of the First. Perhaps what you are feeling is the light from the other locations?”

Again, something about that rang false for A’veri. It was too clean of a reason, even with a dangling question. Far be it from A’veri to prod farther and see where it would get him though. He supposed he would just have to follow blindly for a bit till he got closer to his answer. “I guess.” he finally replied after a moment of silence, yawning again.

“You should perhaps rest some more. That’s the second time in my presence you have yawned.” The Exarch’s smile widened. “Perhaps now that you have relayed the dream, what awaits you are the normal familiar of adventures in similar but different lands.”

“Hah, that’d be nice” A’veri stretched some before standing up from the chair. Soft scraping against the tiled floor resonated faintly in the room as he pushed it back under the table. “But you’re right, I’m going to attempt to get more rest before I head to Fort Jobb,” he said, wandering off to his room, “Before your slave driver of a Vii knight decides I’m a slacker for a Warrior of Darkness” He joked, tail swishing lightly behind him, showing that he was amused. “Rest well when you do, Crystal Exarch.”  
  
“I shall. And you as well, A’veri.” A chuckle left the mysterious robed man, ever amused by the adventurer.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this and Mulling on it for... a month now? I wanted to write SOMETHING about my dumb ass cat, but couldn't decide how and from what angle. After reading "An Encore Befitting of an Architect" (An AWESOME fanfic, 20/10 you should give it a read if you enjoyed this. She's Such an amazing writer and leagues ahead of me in skill!) I found the angle I wanted to write it.  
> If you need a visual reference of A'veri: https://twitter.com/aerypear/status/1303861984874594304?s=20
> 
> Thankyou for reading. Hopefully I don't lose steam in writing this!


End file.
